Hold On
by Kyle of the Sky People
Summary: In the wake of a terrible attack on Camp Jaha, devastating consequences and powerful enemies tear the hundred apart. Clarke embarks on a perilous journey to find and reunite her friends—but Mount Weather has other plans for her—plans that do not involve her prolonged survival . . . (Bellarke, with a heavy focus on Clarke's development. Starts mid 2nd season, as canon as possible.)
1. Prologue - The Pond

**~Prologue~**

**The Pond**

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><p><strong>Clarke<strong>

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><p>Clarke was well aware the she was probably going to get herself killed.<p>

_Go back,_ she told herself, but she couldn't force her body to turn around and walk back in the direction of camp, of the drop ship, of worrying and fear and the crushing weight of all her responsibility.

Was this how her mother felt? Constantly pulled in two different directions, between her emotions and her duty to the people of the Ark, as a member of the council? Did she sometimes wake at night with a crushing weight on her chest, and sit up in bed, gasping for air, convinced within the few seconds before reality set in that she was about to suffocate, about to drown in waves made of her own fears and failures, dragged under by a current she can't escape with nothing to hold on to? Clarke asked herself this, and then she pushed it out of her head. She couldn't think of her mother right now, of what she'd done, of the hole she'd torn in Clarke's life that she could never hope to fill.

But Clarke wasn't about to start thinking of what her mother had done to their family, not here, not now.

_Not that far from camp anyway, _she thought, _I'll be fine._

That's when she heard the twig snap behind her.

Clarke froze, listening. There was nothing but silence now, spreading outward like ripples in a pond, the sound she'd heard the rock that someone had dropped in the water. The entire forest stopped to listen, the thick, ancient trees looming forward with their moss and their dangling leaves. They were listening, too. Behind Clarke, something shifted.

She whipped around, blond strands whipping into her face as she drew in breath to scream—only to be cut off by the hand that clamped down over her mouth.

Clarke inhaled, ready to bite into the hand and rip away whatever she could: flesh, blood, muscle and bone—anything to give herself a fighting chance—and stopped. She smelled smoke and soap and iron. And gun powder.

_Bellamy._She shoved his hand away. "Bellamy!"

Through the darkness, she could see his teeth when he grinned. "Princess, what have I told you about screaming my name out of any emotion other than sheer, unbridled passion?"

Clarke snorted. "Passion? Go float yourself, Bellamy. You really are delusional, aren't you? Have you been eating wild berries, or did you just get hit on the head by a rock this morning or something?" She turned and kept walking.

Bellamy snatched her by the wrist in the darkness. "No," he said. "This way."

"I want to be alone."

"And _I _want to show you something. Besides, you didn't really think I would let you walk around out here on your own, do you? You're just making yourself easy bait for the grounders . . . Or whatever else could be hiding out here."

"Bellamy, I can take care of myself." She glanced back at him, barely visible in the twilight between the trees.

"I know you can. I'm still not leaving you alone."

Clarke sighed, and began to follow him, resigning herself to her fate. "If you're looking for someone to baby, you should go elsewhere. I'm not Octavia, you know. I'm not your sister."

Bellamy had just taken started walking, and he stopped so fast she nearly crashed into him. He spun around, and got so close she could feel his breath, warm against her lips. "Let me be very clear, you are _nothing_ like a sister to me Clarke."

The words would have been cruel, if it had been anyone other than Bellamy saying them. There was an undertone to his words, a vein pumping hot blood beneath the surface of the skin, and all Clarke could think was that he was too close, and not close enough, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to kiss him or kill him, and she had never, in a million years, imagined herself wanting to kiss Bellamy, of all people. Before Clarke could say anything, could poke at the heat beneath his words, Bellamy turned and strode away through the massive trees, leaving Clarke no choice but to follow.

She walked exactly three feet behind Bellamy, watching him from behind. She could only catch flashed from behind, especially in the darkness. The dust coated back of his jacket, the tousled strands of his ink black hair, the swing of his arms as he walked and the broad expanse of his shoulders.

_Where the hell are we going?_

She was about to open her mouth to ask him when he stopped abruptly. Bellamy turned around to face her.

"We're here." He said. "Watch your step, okay?" He sounded . . . Tense. Clarke bit back a sarcastic reply, trying to make things easier on the both of them, and stepped forward, past him.

Bellamy took her hand and helped her down a short slope into a clearing. As soon as they were at the bottom, Clarke snatched her hand away, attempting, weakly, to wipe away the tingling sensation the contact had left on her skin by brushing her hand against the worn material of her pants. It didn't work. She started to look at Bellamy, to try to think of something to say, but as soon as she looked up, Clarke was rendered speechless.

In the center of the clearing was a pond.

A pond with water so clear it was impossible to miss the bio-luminescent moss growing everywhere underneath the water. The moss stretched across the large boulders underneath the surface, draping itself against the steep walls of the pond. Against the brightness of the moss, Clarke could see fish darting back and forth, each of them easily the size of her fist. They broke the surface every few seconds, trying to catch the tiny mosquitoes skimming the surface of the water. As her eyes focused, the glow of the moss seemed to grow brighter and brighter, and she found it gave her ample light to see the rest of the clearing. It spanned maybe thirty feet at most, probably less. The trees at the edges of the open space were thick and pressed close together, providing a moderate level of privacy and cover, and Clarke suspected that it would be hard to come on the clearing by accident, the way the trees were angled: you would have to be looking for it, you would have to know it was there to really _see _it. The ground was covered with a thick spread of grass, and the occasional boulder.

"What do you think?" Bellamy asked. He was still standing beside her, but she could see him well enough now to make out his features, his half hopeful, half curious, half defensive expression.

He was such a complicated puzzle to piece together, like the riddles and learning games she could remember playing on the Ark computer systems in school, but Bellamy was set to a difficulty level so high that she didn't have a chance of cracking his code. But that just made him even more fascinating. As Clarke tried to think of an answer, she found it difficult to distract herself from just how close Bellamy was standing, just how deep and rough his voice was, so intense.

She tried to ignore the heat she could feel rolling off of him in waves, even from here.

"Bellamy, this is . . ." Clarke shook her head. "This is amazing. It's beautiful here."

His lips parted, and he took a slight step closer. He was so close now she could feel the fabric of her jacket brushing against his, she could see the muscles in his neck tense as he swallowed, and she wasn't sure exactly why she wasn't moving away. _What am I doing?_

Bellamy leaned even closer. _This is a dangerous game._ She thought, and then, taking them both by surprise, she closed the space between them.

"_Clarke,_" he whispered, voice hoarse, against her lips. And then he was pulling her against him, tightly, roughly, like he was afraid that she would slip from his grasp like water at any minute.

Clarke didn't feel like water. She felt like lava. She felt like pure electricity. She was feeling freedom and relief for the first time in her entire life, and both of them felt suspiciously like Bellamy Blake's lips crushing against hers, and his arms wrapping around her waist to keep her close.

Kissing Bellamy was like diving into a pile of scorching coals headfirst, and she was ready to let them both burn up in the flames if it meant she didn't have to let go.

Bellamy broke the kiss first, leaning back just enough that heir lips weren't touching, but their foreheads were resting against each other, sparks popping everywhere their skin met. They breathed each other in, explored the spaces between them, the gentle give and take of their bodies moving together, in and out like the tides and the moon, constantly reacting to each other, and Clarke knew she couldn't go back and pretend this had never happened. She couldn't even try.

She didn't want to.

"So, what now?"

"What do you mean?" Bellamy whispered.

"What do we do _now?_" She asked. _Now that we've fallen into each other harder and faster than we fell from the Ark. Now that it feels like losing you would be worse than losing the oxygen in my lungs and the blood in my veins. Now that you're running through every inch of my body like a poison I can't get enough of._

Bellamy blinked once, then twice. "Well," he said. "Now, I guess we just have to hold on."

"Hold on to what?" She asked, remembering the very fears that had driven her into the forest tonight. _Pulled under, with nothing to hold on to._

Bellamy grinned. "Each other, Princess," he said, and then he kissed her again so hard she felt the ground shift under her feet.

Clarke smiled against his lips. "Sounds like a plan."


	2. One - Shadows and Screams

**~THREE WEEKS LATER~**

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><p><strong>~Chapter One~<strong>

**Shadows and Screams**

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><p><strong>Clarke<strong>

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><p>Clarke was going to die.<p>

Smoke curled in the air around her, and she could hear the battle cries of both the Ark survivors and the grounders around her, like the wailing of reapers come to collect the dead. Clarke shook her head._ No time for old earth stories._

She crouched in the dirt, looking back and forth as figures darted through the heavy smoke around her. She had to find Bellamy. And her friends. And her mother. She had to protect the hundred. She had to get the hell out of there. Mere feet in front of her, a fallen member of the hundred was struggling with a grounder twice his size, with tangled blond hair and bright, vicious eyes. Clarke shoved herself up and moved towards them, ready to help, but as soon as she got close a dark shape emerged from the smoke and buried a blade in the grounder's back in one swift, merciless move.

It didn't register that it was Octavia until she was pulling out her blade with a sickening sound that made the hairs on the back of Clarke's neck stand up. Octavia sheathed her blade, failing to notice Clarke where she stood a few feet away, shoved the dead grounder out of the way, and lent the boy a hand getting up.

He ran back into the smoke, vanishing like a hazy dream cut short by waking.

Octavia turned and bolted away as well, and she was swallowed up by the battle within seconds."Octavia!" Clarke bellowed after her, but then there was the sound of gunfire nearby, and she was dropping down again and half-jogging, half-crawling into the darkness.

She could make out large shapes in the distance, trees maybe. And the very top ridge of the Ark ruins peeked out from the smoke, like the corpse of a forgotten god, left alone to fade in a world of darkness and death.

The grounders were burning the ramshackle huts the survivors had spent the last two weeks erecting. Clarke had no idea what had happened: one minute she had been hunkered down behind one of the huts near the back of the camp with Bellamy and Octavia and—of all people—Murphy, trying to plan their infiltration of mount Weather. Raven had volunteered to distract Finn for them while they worked, either out of good nature or because she wanted to help somehow, even if she couldn't come along on her damaged leg. Of course, Clarke knew that even if it was a job the could be done without both legs, helping Finn in any capacity was beyond Raven—beyond any of them, probably. But something had gone wrong: there had been shouting and smoke and shots fired, and then Octavia was running off and Bellamy was chasing her and Clarke had instructed Murphy to gather as many weapons as he could and then come find them before rushing into the fray after the Blake siblings.

But now there was no sign of Murphy. There was no sign of anyone Clarke knew—just shadows and screams and the pounding of her heart in her chest. The air was so heavy, she could barely breathe, the smell of burning filling her nostrils, so strong she wanted to hurl. It was early afternoon, but it may as well have been midnight for all Clarke could see.

"Bellamy!" She screamed, "Octavia!" No answer.

She started running again and promptly tripped over a dead body. She broke the fall with her arms, the impact sending a jolt through her entire frame, but she didn't have time to stop, didn't have time to feel the pain. She rolled onto her back and twisted up onto her knees, checking the corpse. It was a girl, one of the hundred.

_Monroe_.

Her bright orange hair was coated with blood, and her eyes were open but unseeing, staring past Clarke and into the dark sky above. Clarke closed her eyes, gently, before taking the dagger still sheathed at her side. _She didn't even have a chance to get her dagger out,_ she thought. _Not even a chance._

There was no time to fall apart right now though. The grounders were still attacking, and she had to move if she wanted to keep breathing. First, she would find Bellamy, Octavia, and Murphy, and then they would work out how to get things back under control. So Clarke ran some more. She didn't know where she was going, but she assumed she was moving closer to the skeletal remains of the Ark. If she could get inside . . . Maybe they hadn't lost all control yet. Some order had to have been maintained, some kind of plan formed. But it didn't seem like they'd had even a few seconds notice of the attack, and she could feel anxiety threatening to fill her up as the thought of something bad happening to her mother plagued her mind. If Abbey was still alive, still in camp, she would most likely be in the Ark. Clarke was nearly there when a blurry figure charged her from the side. She grunted as an elbow pounded against her ribs and stomach, forcing the air out of her lungs. There were hands on her shoulders, shoving her down against the dirt and the rocks, and she shoved back roughly, fighting blindly.

"Stay the hell down you moron!" A shrill voice hissed in her ear.

_Raven._ Clarke went slack. "We have to find Bellamy a-"

"No!" Raven whisper-shouted. She grabbed Clark and hauled her up, surprisingly durable for a girl who could only move one leg. "The grounders have taken everything. Ten more steps and you're dead: I saw them take the Ark, and I barely got away Clarke. There's no way we're winning this one."

"My mom?" Clarke felt the air rushing out of her.

Raven shook her head. "Alive, but they have her."

"If they have her, she won't be alive for long." Clarke started to get up, and Raven pulled her down again.

"We have to get out of this camp, now, Clarke. If we stay, we die too. The fence is down, and if we hurry we can still get out before they manage to turn it back on."

Clarke recoiled as if she's been slapped. "How could you?" Her voice was thick. "How could you leave our people behind like that? What about our Friends? What about Finn? How could you be such a cowar-"

"Finish that sentence," said Raven, "and the grounders won't have to kill you, because I'll do it myself. You don't think I want to save Finn? And Abbey? Clarke if we don't leave now, we lose any chance of saving Finn, or your mom, or anyone else in this camp." Raven's voice was silver and steel, leaving no space for negotiations. The two girls had only known each other for a short amount of time, and already Raven knew that the only way to make Clarke listen was to hit her with a dose of cold, unforgiving reality.

Clarke was about to speak up when there was a familiar series of snarls and shouts from the distance, and her blood ran cold. She looked at Raven, eyes widening, and whispered a single word:

"_Reapers_."

Raven's face went slack immediately. It was like watching a machine shut down. The fear and shock and exhaustion that had been tightening Clarke's stomach swirled together and blossomed into a tight knot of adrenaline that burst like a mirror being shattered, sending liquid shards into her veins to wake her up and keep her moving. Keep her alive.

"We have to move." She grabbed Raven's wrist and stood, pulling her friend up with her. "Where do we go?"

Raven was already taking off. "This way," she said, limping as she struggled with her leg. She was going to slow them down.

_Breathe, Clarke, just breathe. _There was no time now to save anyone, no time to shift through the chaos and the confusion and the rubble to raise up some fragile illusion of order. There was no going back from this, and Clarke knew it. She glanced back into the smoke, towards the Ark and her people and her friends and everything she had ever been or would be, and then, hearing the cries of the reapers building and growing closer, she turned and ran after Raven, knowing that nothing would be the same ever again.

The smoke rose into the sky behind her, both a reminder, and an omen.

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

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><p>So, in case you guys hadn't figured it out yet, the prologue took place just after the big storm at the beginning of season 2. The hundred have contacted the Ark but Chancellor Jaha hasn't sacrificed himself to save anyone yet, and Abbey and Clarke don't know if they'll ever see each other again, and Clarke is struggling with the knowledge that her mother betrayed her father. Chapter One takes place three weeks later. The Ark has been destroyed, the survivors are on the earth. Chapter three starts a few days after the end of season 2 episode 5, Human Trials. The only thing that differs from canon in this universe so far is that Clarke and Bellamy have kissed. They've acknowledged the fact that they want to be together, but have only had a few small moments to do so up until now, which you'll see through Clarke's memories in the upcoming chapters, but I promise, flashbacks will be limited to two or three paragraphs - short ones - because I know how annoying flashbacks can be.<p>

Aside from Clarke's POV, we'll be getting chapters from both Monty and Raven's POVS in the future. Raven is obviously with Clarke right now, and Monty is where we left him at the end of human trials: trapped in Mount Weather. And now it looks like Clarke might not be coming back to save him . . .

*Cue evil laugh*

So yeah, I may update later today, or tomorrow. I'm pretty invested in this thing, since I'm writing it both to entertain myself and to explore characters that I feel deserve more focus (the three POV characters). To be fair, Clarke gets lots of screen time, but is there any such thing as too much Clarke? Is there?

I also plan on having some steamy Bellarke scenes and some cool Octavia stuff later on.


	3. Two - Sabotage and Sacrifice

**~Chapter Two~**

**Sabotage and Sacrifice**

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><p><strong>Clarke<strong>

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><p>Clarke had no idea what they were going to do.<p>

It was hard to come up with a plan when you could hear the crying of the reapers behind you as you ran for your life. Once they'd made it into the woods and hunkered down, waiting to see if they'd been spotted and followed, Clarke started to think. She had to come up with something, some kind of plan to follow.

She at least had to decide what they were going to do tonight.

The sky people had been split like a severed corpse. Half of their people were prisoners in their own camp, while the other half were prisoners in Mount Weather—and they didn't even know it. Clarke had to believe that someone else had gotten out of Camp Jaha. She and Raven couldn't be the only free Ark survivors out in the woods. Surely, there must be other Ark survivors, or someone who'd made it out of the battle at the drop ship. If Octavia and Bellamy had escaped . . . But the chances of that happening were slim to none. Clarke had to assume they were on their own now, and go from there.

_Bellamy . . ._ She rubbed her fingers over her lips, remembering how the last time they'd been together he'd pecked her lightly when she'd gone up to him where he waited for her with Octavia and Murphy.

"We need to find a place to stop for a while." She said to Raven now, trying to force herself back into the present.

They walked beside each other, Raven limping along at a pace that forced Clarke to slow herself down. The young mechanic didn't have her stilts with her, and she was forcing along her nerve-damaged leg in its brace. She'd stopped earlier and grabbed a thick, gnarled branch that had fallen to the ground, and now she was using it as a walking stick, but it didn't look like it was helping much. Her dark hair was plastered to the sides of her face with sweat, ponytail tousled in the back. It wasn't hard to see that she was struggling.

"We don't," Raven said, predictably. "I'm fine."

Clarke stopped. "Raven, you're not. Look, we can't just pretend your leg isn't an issue, okay? I can't let you kill yourself trying to keep up with me, and I don't expect you to, so stop trying. You need to rest for a minute. And I need time to think, anyway. I have no idea what we're going to do next."

Raven looked like she wanted to protest, but after a few quiet seconds she struggled over to the nearest tree and slid down to rest against its base. Clarke sat next to her, resting her head against the tree, closing her eyes, and wishing for the millionth time that she had a map.

Before she started planning she needed a minute to stop _feeling_. She had to push everything away, her fear and her exhaustion and the adrenaline still pumping through her system. Memories pressed against the backs of her eyelids, threatening to overcome her, drag her into places it would be better not to go. Her friends were gone. Her family was gone. An right now she couldn't worry about whether or not they were okay, because if she did her fear would paralyze her, and she couldn't do anything for them if she let herself hunker down in the forest and cry like a little girl. _You've done this before, Clarke, _She told herself. _You've faced off against grounders. You've been on your own. You can do this._

She opened her eyes.

"We need to decide what we're going to do next." She said. Raven nodded, game, so she continued."We need to know what we're working with, first of all. Weapons, supplies, tools, everything we're carrying. We need to know long can we survive with what we've got on us, and how well we can protect ourselves out here."

Raven immediately starting tossing out everything she had, and Clarke did the same. When they were done taking inventory, they came up with Monroe's dagger, Raven's monkey wrench, and one packet of trail mix. Clarke balked. They weren't going to last long out in the woods with this little food and no water. They couldn't hunt properly with a wrench and a dagger, and even if they could, there was no way to start a fire.

"We're screwed." Raven was glaring at their meagre supplies. Clarke couldn't exactly argue: if they stayed in the woods, they died; if they went to Mount Weather, they died; if they went back to Camp Jaha, they died.

Raven opened her mouth, about to say something, and that's when the growling started. Clarke felt her blood freeze to ice in her veins. She turned her head slowly, cautiously, and looked right into the eyes of an angry grizzly bear.

The beast opened its mouth and growled. Spittle flew at Clarke's face, and she felt herself jolt back to life.

They had to get away from this thing before it attacked them. It was less than three feet away, and it had them pressed up against the tree like easy prey. Clarke moved as far back as she could go and shoved Raven to the side, away from the animal. The bear reared back on its hind legs and let out the most bone chilling, heart stopping roar sound Clarke had ever heard. It was like a god of the forest, come to devour them. Raven screamed Clarke's name, but Clarke ignored her, staring at the bear. The radiation had done something to the creature: patches of its body were covered in rippling blue scales, while the rest of it was buried under thick layers of brown fur. It wasn't entirely bear, not anymore. A sub-species maybe, or a descendant of the original species, even.

Clarke gripped her dagger, fairly sure she was about to be mauled. She wasn't going down without a fight. She braced herself for the animal to charge—but it never did.

The bottom end of a sword erupted from it's face in a showering of blood. Clarke shouted in alarm and dove to the side as the beast collapsed to the ground, dead.

What was left was Octavia Blake, standing with her hands on her hips and watching them with one eyebrow raised and an amused smile on her face. She shook her head at them. "I can't leave you two alone for five minutes, can I?"

~oOo~

The darkness was a sanctuary Clarke had sorely needed.

In the darkness, the others couldn't see her cry. She refused to sob, burying her face in the crook of her elbow and stretching out on the ground, but she couldn't stop the tears from sliding over her cheeks and dropping to the ground when they came. They'd all agreed it was too risky to light a fire, and Octavia didn't want to risk giving away their presence to the grounders and losing the element of surprise, so they slept in the darkness.

Clarke had volunteered to keep watch, and now she leaned back against the face of the rock outcropping they'd used for shelter, staring into the darkness with her legs stretched in front of her and her heart miles away, back at Camp Jaha with her people.

Clarke had been so happy to see Octavia she had nearly tackled her, wrapping her in a hug and holding onto her like she was afraid that at any second she would vanish into the smoke again, a dream ripped away by the harsh hands of waking.

"_How did you get out?" She'd asked, pulling away. "The last time I saw you, you killed a grounder and ran off into the fight like a mad woman. I thought you were as good as dead Octavia!"_

_Octavia smirked. "Always underestimating me, aren't you? __Y__ou really are just like Bellamy." She glanced around. "Where is Bell, anyway?"_

_Clarke recoiled. "What do you mean? Isn't . . . __I__sn't he with you?"_

_Octavia deflated. Raven stepped forward and stared her in the eyes. "We'll find Bellamy, Octavia. We'll find everyone."_

_Clarke nodded. "For now, we should keep moving. We need to find a place to camp for the night."_

After that they walked until they found the outcropping, which would provide minimal shelter. They'd eaten a meager diner of trail mix, and by that time, the sun had started to set, a giant's eye drifting to sleep and dragging the earth into the darkness with it. In the morning, they planned to head back to Camp Jaha and scope the place out. After that, who knew? Clarke had a few hazy ideas about maybe returning to the hundred's drop ship, but now, lying in the dark and feeling the ache in her chest that was Bellamy's absence, she couldn't focus on strategizing.

Instead, she listened to Raven and Octavia sleep. Raven snored, just a bit, while Octavia breathed steadily in and out. Beyond that, she could hear crickets chirping, the breeze rustling the leaves in the trees around them. She sat watch, but mostly she didn't watch anything, just listened. Earth was constantly alive, moving and shifting in ways the Ark never had. It never truly went to sleep, always humming with an energy that felt ancient and true, like it was connected to Clarke's own heartbeat. It was nothing like the machine hum that had always been there on the Ark.

Of course, on the Ark there were no grounders waiting in the woods to spear your friends and take your people hostage. Or bears with radioactive mutations looking to maul you.

In the morning, she had to start saving everybody all over again, but for tonight, she could let herself be human. She thought of Bellamy, of the empty spaces between her fingers where his should be resting. She thought of her mother, of how she could be dead right now.

She thought of Monroe.

She remembered stumbling over the girl's body back at camp, during the attack, and how her eyes had been open, staring into the sky. Clarke didn't know how old she'd been, but she looked young, and if she had to guess she would say Monroe had been about fifteen, maybe younger. And now she was dead.

Because of what Finn had done.

That was what hurt most of all, that this was because of Finn. It had to be: why else would the grounders attack them? It didn't make any sense, now, when they were more powerful than they'd ever been. With the rest of the survivors from the Ark their numbers had to be higher than the grounder's. Of course, the reapers showing up had probably taken a greater toll on the sky people than anything else had. Right now Clarke was trying to hate Finn, and she was trying to hate the grounders, and she couldn't do either, and she was admitting this was a mess she might not be able to clean up.

Sighing into the dark, she stared into the night sky and tried to clear her head of everything a final time. She couldn't afford to get distracted with thoughts of mayhem and madness, couldn't afford to let herself fall into a nightmare world of memory and regret.

For tonight, all she could do was wait.

~oOo~

From this far away, the figures walking around Camp Jaha and passing in and out of the skeleton of Alpha Station weren't much more than hazy outlines, and it was easy to pretend that the attack had never happened. Like they could waltz right back into camp, back into safety and solace and the comfort of being in the company of their own people.

But Clarke reminded herself that wasn't the case: her people were prisoners now, and it was on her to liberate them.

She was kneeling between Raven and Octavia nearly thirty feet away from camp, just past the tree line. They'd been here for almost an hour now, watching the grounders from a distance and trying to decide on a course of action. Octavia wanted to sneak into the camp and start taking out grounders one by one, while Raven said they should try to create a distraction to lure a group of grounders out and take them hostage. Clarke had told them both that it would be stupid to act too quickly, and that they should keep watching the camp for more information. When it came to Raven and Octavia, Clarke had learned that she had to lead more gently, guiding them along at their own pace as opposed to dragging them by the ear the way she did with most of the hundred. Neither of the girls was fond of taking commands.

"I think it would be best," Clarke said, "if we got in, got our supplies, and got out. If we try to fight or we let them know we're here, they'll come after us. Right now we don't have the resources to fight them off, and our people are in there unarmed, being held hostage. If we attack them, who knows what they could do? Right now we just need to buy ourselves some time to come up with a better plan, and that means getting more food, water, and weapons. We let them know we're here, and we make it that much harder on ourselves to get what we need."

"Okay, but we still have no clue how we're getting in." Octavia pointed out.

"Yes we do." Raven piped up. She nodded back at the camp. "Do you see that branch that extends over the fence?"

Clarke followed Raven's gaze and gasped. "It's right over one of the huts. If we climb that tree, one of us could drop down and grab our supplies, and then just climb up on the roof again and get out of there. If we move quickly, they won't even see us. Good eye Raven!"

"I can't move that fast with my leg, but if one of you goes in, it would probably work."

"I'm in." Octavia said.

Clarke nodded. "So we'll go in once it gets dark. In and out, and then we start planning for real."

The three of them retreated further into the woods, moving at a slower pace so Raven could keep up. Still, for someone in a leg brace, she hobbled along pretty quickly. Clarke was impressed by her endurance, there was something beautiful about the stubbornness that kept Raven moving forward, day after day, even as her injury reached out to try and hold her back, like quicksand pulling a victim under its surface second by second. And even if sometimes she failed, even if sometimes she needed an extra minute or two to sit and rest, Raven always got back up and started fighting all over again.

It was the same stubbornness that had kept humans fighting to stay alive since the dawn of time.

Raven and Octavia talked in hushed tones when they finally found a good spot to stop and wait for sunset, but Clarke leaned against a boulder and angled herself so she was facing away from them. It was almost as good as being alone.

She wanted a minute to herself, before she ran headfirst into danger again, into fear and fighting and the frailty of her own will to keep pushing forward, which was threatening to shatter any second like glass run through with cracks. A minute to listen to the wind whisper secrets to the trees, to admire the noise of the song they sang in return, a melody of rustling leaves and creaking branches. A light breeze ghosted over her skin, and she closed her eyes and breathed in the smell of the forest, all pine and dirt and wildflowers. When she closed her eyes like this and tuned into the earth, it felt like she could feel forever stretching out underneath her fingertips, each second of admiration another step on the map towards where she needed to be.

She hadn't realized she'd been homesick her entire life until now.

Clarke imagined that death was a slumber made up of silence and shadows and secrets, which, to her, sounded too much like life on the Ark for comfort. She'd spent her whole life tuned into the silence, and she wasn't going back to it anytime soon. Now that she'd heard the music of the earth, she didn't plan on giving it up.

Clarke gripped her dagger more tightly, and wondered how close the silence would come to claiming her tonight.

When twilight fell, they moved into position.

They kept away from the fence, taking a longer route to avoid being seen, and came out of the forest on the other side of Camp Jaha, closer to the tree they needed to climb and the hut that would act as their ladder to the ground.

At the base of the tree, Octavia jumped and caught a low hanging branch, dragging herself up and reaching for the branch above that one in turn. Clarke took a slower route, jamming her foot into a low tree knot and shoving herself upwards towards the first branch. When she was up high enough, she swung a leg over the branch so she was straddling it and reached down the help Raven up after her, but her friend waved away her offer and started climbing on her own, moving at a snail's pace. Originally they'd assumed Raven would stay on the ground, until she pointed out that Clarke was probably too weak to haul Octavia up into the tree again by herself. To her credit, Raven never complained. Her breathing grew heavier, and in the darkness, Clarke saw her wince a few times, but she didn't let herself cry out, didn't give voice to the frustration she was so clearly harboring. It was clear she wouldn't have been able to climb up without Clarke's help. They went branch by branch, Clarke watching Raven struggle with every move. A bead of sweat rolled down the side of her face and dropped away, but she ignored it and kept going.

"Raven, honestly, let me help you, if I just-"

"No!" Raven snapped. "I can do this. I don't need you to carry me Clarke."

Clarke winced, but let Raven continue up without help. She would have to learn to accept help eventually, but now wasn't the time to press the issue. It was imperative that they move quickly, and Clarke had already switched into warrior mode.

When they reached the branch that extended over the fence, they scooted along until they were suspended directly above one of the few huts that had survived the grounder attack—most had burnt to the ground, and the camp was now dotted with the still-smoldering ruins of the tiny buildings. They'd been used mainly for storage, though a few had worked as private quarters for some of the Ark survivors who there wasn't any room for in the remains of Alpha station. Clarke hoped that no one had been inside the ones that had caught flame, but she knew it was highly unlikely that had been the case.

Moving quickly o avoid being seen, Octavia slid off the branch until she was holding on with just her hands, and her feet were almost—but not quite—touching the roof of the hut, and then she dropped down onto the roof light as a feather and graceful as one of the panther-like cats that Clarke had seen slinking through the forest several times since landing on earth—cats the hundred had even eaten, at one point. She resisted the urge to follow her friend as she ducked down and dropped to the ground. There were no guards around—there wasn't anybody around— but Clarke could see the grounders in the distance, closer to Alpha Station. They'd waited for a lone guard to pass before climbing the tree, and probably didn't have much time before she made another round. Clarke wondered where the rest of the sky people were. Had they been rounded up and executed? Or, were they all being confined inside Alpha Station at the moment? The second option seemed more likely, since Clarke hadn't seen any signs of a mass murder taking place while she'd surveyed the camp earlier, and she doubted that the grounders had simply wanted Camp Jaha for themselves. Still, the lack of people was making her nervous, and she watched Octavia work with a chain of worry tightening her body like a cord pulled taut.

Octavia moved quickly and silently, opening the door of the hut she'd dropped onto and then shaking her head—_quarters_—she mouthed up at them, and then closed the door and moved onto the next hut. She went inside and didn't come back for nearly a minute and a half, but when she did it was with a pack slung over each shoulder and a satisfied grin on her face. She climbed back onto the scrap metal roof and shoved the bags up at them.

"Weapons!"

Raven leaned down to grab the bags before handing them back to Clarke. Peering inside the first, she could just barely make out the collection of knives inside, along with what looked like a pair of machetes. Octavia herself had a second short sword haltered to her other hip now.

"There's a pistol in the second pack, and two rounds of ammo!"

"Great," Clarke said. "Now lets get out of here."

Raven glanced back at her. "What about food?"

"We have the pistol, we can hunt in the morning. It's too risky to go back down th—"

That's when the horn blasted through the night air, slicing the silence in half. They'd been spotted. Clarke swore.

Octavia didn't even look back before she jumped for the branch. Clarke grabbed for her so fast she dropped one of the packs, screaming in dismay as she watched it fall to the ground. But she'd already taken Octavia's hand and started pulling her up, and she wasn't letting go now. Raven had her other arm and was pulling as hard as she could, and soon they were hauling her up over the branch. Clarke had just started to scramble for the base of the tree when she heard Octavia's scream of warning, and looked back in time to watch helplessly as Raven moved out of the path of an arrow just in time—only to fall backwards off the branch and down into he grounder infested camp.

Octavia screamed and reached for her, but Clarke could already see she was too far to catch.

The world around her seemed to slow down. The battle cries of the Grounders, the scream of the horn, the lights of Alpha Station stabbing through the darkness. Everything went away except for Raven, staring into Clarke's eyes as she fell with a look of complete and utter disbelief. Clarke's voice echoed around in her skull. _Raven, _she'd said once, _I'd pick you first._

But would she? Over a chance at saving everyone she'd ever loved? Would she pick Raven first?

Clarke's entire body seemed to lean in Raven's direction, like she had already made up her mind to slide off the branch and go after her friend, guns blazing. But if she did that, she lost any chance of saving their people.

_I'd pick you first._ She'd said, and she'd meant it. But not over the fate of all their people.

Clarke knew what she had to do.

She grabbed Octavia and pulled her so roughly towards to trunk of the tree she nearly sent them both over the edge. Time jerked to a start again, Raven's fall with it, and Clarke saw from the corner of her eye when Raven hit the hut's metal roof. The entire structure collapsed under the sheer force of her fall, the metal snapping away from the wooden walls and plunging her down into the hut. Octavia was still screaming, but Clarke didn't stop dragging her for a second.

"There's nothing we can do for her Octavia! We have to get out of here or we're both going to die!" she shook Octavia's arm roughly and she snapped out of it, forcing herself along behind Clarke.

Another arrow whizzed by Clarke's head and she forced herself not to look back or to stop, knowing if she even took the time to consider it she'd be dead within seconds. She tried to climb down the tree so fast she missed half the branches and hand-holds and ended up sliding down, scraping her hands bloody against the rough bark. Octavia was seconds behind her, so close she would have landed on Clarke if she hadn't started running as soon as she hit the ground. Octavia followed without prompting, and soon they were darting through the trees in the darkness, the screams of the grounders fading away behind them.

Clarke ran like hell was at her heels, and she didn't stop once.

Not even when she heard Raven start screaming.

~oOo~

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

* * *

><p>So, what did you guys think?<p>

Now the grounders have Raven (and nearly everyone else) and the mountain men have got Monty, and Clarke is running around in the woods with Octavia. Our POV characters don't exactly have their shit together at the moment, do they?

The next chapter will be from Monty's POV, and will probably be posted today or tomorrow, depending on how long it takes me to write and edit the thing.

I want to assure you guys that I have the entire fic outlined pretty extensively. There will be thirty chapters, not counting the prologue and epilogue. Chapters will alternate between Clarke, Monty, and Raven's POVS in that order, but there will also be a single chapter from Bellamy's POV and a single chapter from Octavia's POV. The fic will be novel length, I'm estimating around 50 000 to 52 000 words, but it could be a little more or a little less, depending. We'll see.

I don't have an update schedule, and I'm not planning to get one, but I will say that I'm a pretty fast writer, so the spaces between updates won't usually be longer than two or three days. Especially since I'm really invested in this fic.

Thanks for reading guys, I promise, the third chapter is coming soon! Monty's POV for the win!


	4. NOTICE: Hiatus and Explanations

**~Notice~**

**Hiatus and An Explanation**

This isn't exactly the most enjoyable update for me to write, but it has to be done, and I owe all of you who have faved this story or added it to your watch list or left a review an explanation.

So basically, I'm going on hiatus.

I've said before that I have this fic planned out, and it's going to be novel length. The problem is, I'm really busy right not. Exams are coming and I need to focus on school and my Japanese studies and my original work for now.

I promise, I'm not going to stop writing this fic. I won't be updating regularly, but I'll still be working on Hold On. As soon as the fic is finished entirely, I'll start editing and post the chapters as I finish editing, but I won't start editing chapters until the entire fic is done.

If you guys want to keep up with me, or have any questions to ask, you can find the link to my tumblr on my profile page.

I'm not sure when I'll have time to write, probably on weekends and over Christmas break, but I promise I'll keep working on this project. I know it's a bit unorthodox not to post chapters as I finish them, but it feels much more organic for me to write the entire thing and then edit. Of course when I start updating again I'll delete this chapter and you guys will get notifications when a new chapter is up.

As always, thanks for reading, and I really appreciate you guys taking the time to check out my work. Cross your fingers and pray exams don't kill me.


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